any place from here, please. ;; OPEN.

[Dylanne Amber Avery]

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pple and apple juice. Two items from the same fruit was all Dylanne had in each hand as she surveyed the cafeteria, which if she could say so herself, was pretty full. It felt like high school all over...well, technically it just felt like highschool. Yeah, Dylanne was a party kid. Yeah, she got drunk off her ass and sometimes woke up in bed with someone who's first name she didn't even know. But, she made sure she attended school. She may have skipped a couple of days, but she did well in school and caught up. It was the only thing so far her parents could say when talking well about her or complimenting her. Still standing in the off center of the cafeteria, Dylanne finally bit into the red apple, finally seeing a table and eying it as she made her way towards it. She kept her eyes forward, not making eyes with anyone, her hips swaying. Her lips pressed together as she came up to the nearly empty table(there was another patient sitting at the far end) and she sat down gently, every movement precise and delicate. She wanted guys looking at her. She wanted attention. She didn't want tonight to make two days without being laid. If it was, she'd have to pleasure herself. And that was something she didn't want to do, no matter what the circumstance was. So, tonight she'd find a buddy. Her and that buddy would find some place to go. Dylanne bit into the apple once more, savouring the taste of the juices that were in her mouth.

erfection didn't exist. Dylanne knew that all too well. But even yet, her eyes looked about, eying every boy as she gave them their pros and cons-in her mind, of course. She made sure to not meet their eyes. But if she did, and they happened to be good looking, she'd offer a quick grin before looking back at her apple, deliberatly biting and chewing, rolling her eyes slightly as she looked back around the room. No one had come up to talk to her yet, and so far Dylanne was glad for that. She wanted time to survey and convey. That way, she'd be ready if a guy she'd been eying came to her. That way, she'd end up making plans with him for later on. It was like playing a game and desperately wanting to win: you watch your every move, you watch your opponents every move...then move in to score some points. "The Game" wasn't hard to learn, and Dylanne was amongst the high scorers. The apple core now sat in her hand, and Dylanne looked at it for a few moments before setting it back down and picking her apple juice up with both hands, sipping from it deeply, so that a quarter of it was already gone. She kept the cup in her hands, elbows on top of the table as she finished watching people. There was no one interesting anymore.

ut if someone happened to walk in, with in mind that someone being a male and preferably with a high amount of...what did kids call it? "Swagger." That was the word. If someone with a high amount of that walked in, Dylanne'd be ready to play the game, and win it at that. Smiling at herself, Dylanne put the juice carton back down on the table, her fingers running through her hair as she ran her fingers through it self conciously, twirling it on a few fingers. She had changed from her previous outfit of a short dressed and ripped tights; instead, she was now wearing a pair of snug fitting skinny jeans that felt to show her curves off. Of course, they'd taken her belt away as was Michigan State policy. Dylanne had argued back, but it was a lost cause. Instead, she'd decided on wearing a longer black t-shirt. Her hair was simple-wavy and out of place, except for her bangs that were falling over her forehead.

Let the fun begin.

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word count :;: six seventy five
tags :;: open, dylanne, cafeteria
muse :;: hungryyyy(:
music :;: Taking Life From Me - BrokeNCYDE
notes :;: eh.
clothing :;: it's in there.
credits :;: this template belongs to elledesigns! Steal this from Elle and very unplesant things will happen to you. You wouldn't want that, now would you? I would hope not. Credit to Escape the Fate for the lyrics. DO NOT REMOVE ANY CREDIT. This includes the image at the end.